Transcending Nature
by Mariposa Indigo
Summary: Finding Nemo. First in what might be a series, Bruce thinks of the time he fell off the wagon...and what has saved him from doing it again.


Author's Note: This is part of my tendency to make cartoons far more serious than they were ever meant to be. Granted, Finding Nemo got pretty dark at points, but that wasn't enough for me, of course. I couldn't help but notice how every major character seemed to overcome-or at least try to overcome-what nature had delt them. Plus, I really loved the sharks and there's no fic about them yet. :)  
  
If I ever write them, there will be two more parts in this series: Fins ( featuring Gill and Nemo), and Fear (about Marlin and Dory). This one is supposed to discuss Nigel and Bruce, but it's pretty Dory-heavy as well. Ah well. I like Dory. :D  
  
Feedback is much appreciated, both good and bad. Just be nice and constructive about it.  
  
Transcending Nature I: Food  
  
Bruce notices everything about Dory; slowly but surely, he's learned the way she talks, and moves, and thinks, and feels.   
  
Dory speaks, and you know she really means it. No matter what 'it' is. "Hello," isn't just a word, giving her name is not just a ritual; she means it. When she's happy, her eyes light up and the dimples become clear in her cheeks. When she's sad, which is thankfully not often, her whole body trembles and those same eyes are even wider than usual; they're saucers, dinner plates.   
  
When Dory thinks, she taps her lower lip and her face gets a little less carefree. She has three scars on her side, but she never explains how she got them, probably because no one's ever asked. If they did ask, and she remembered it, it'd probably be just another story for her. No matter how much pain is involved, no matter how terrifying things became.  
  
Dory always looks at the world like she's seeing it for the first time. Once, it really was the first time, every time; but her memory gets better and better and she still doesn't take life for granted.   
  
And she forgives, Bruce thinks. No matter who you are, or what happened, she forgives.   
  
He began to notice these things a few weeks ago, when her presence at meetings was becoming familiar. Even before he got to know her, he wondered about her. He was a bit overzealous in the things he did, but he was no fool. Neither was she. She'd gone halfway through the twelve steps of F.E.A., and she'd never eaten a fish. And she hadn't before the meetings, and she wouldn't after. She WAS a bloomin' fish, to state the obvious; cannibalism wasn't likely.  
  
So the meetings were useless to her. And frankly, he had to admit, maybe a little dangerous. They took subtle care to steer her from anything that could make her bleed. And even still, in those early days, sometimes he'd looked at her...  
  
/and there's a shiver that runs up your body and it feels so good, ooooooh, so good, you feel it on the edge of every gill and tooth, right to the tips of your fins, and you're a machine, brain? what brain? you have more of a brain than your stupid sidekicks but that doesn't matter anymore, all that matters is power, power in your jaws and the way you glide through the water, and how your eyes turn black and they gleam, because she looks so tiny and helpless and GOOD, with that stupidly innocent look on her face, just like all fish before they realize what's behind them, before their whole face contorts in fear even if you're really not that hungry and you just want to know which way to that kelp bed a few leagues away, and they run like the devil's on their tails, and oh, right, that's you, and for a second you feel this pang inside you, and the word for it is a little bit like 'lonely'.../  
  
And then he'd snap back, and for a second his whole body would shake. And she'd ask what was wrong. And he'd say, "Nothing."  
  
Sometimes, he wished she didn't trust so easily. He wished she'd ask him for the truth.   
  
Bruce had asked her for the truth, once. He'd asked her, "Dory, what are you doing here?"  
  
She'd gotten nervous, far from all-out bawling, but still wondering what he meant. "Don't you want me here?"  
  
"Oh God, 'course we do, Dory, s'not that. You're just so...er, dedicated."  
  
Like flicking a switch, 'Crisis Averted', she bounced back to cheerful smiling and her best attempts to be modest. "Oh, it's nothing, really. I'm just your average Regal Blue Tang with loads of free time on her hands; and besides, I've found the more I get involved, the better my memory gets, so..."  
  
Bruce often wondered what would happen if her memory flared up again, if she remembered the terror she felt when the really friendly shark she'd just met suddenly flashed his pearly whites. That day, in particular, he'd almost been afraid to ask her...  
  
"Aren't you afraid you'll get hurt?"  
  
"Hurt?"  
  
"After...after last time, when-"  
  
"Oh! Oh, oh that..." She thought for a moment, and then flashed a carefree smile again. "Nope."  
  
Dory can produce belly laughs in creatures far bigger, stronger, and tougher than she. Perhaps it's some new mode of defense, something that will keep popping up throughout evolution.  
  
One day, she'd told him about Nigel.   
  
Bruce had often listened to her tell about her trip with Marlin, Anchor and Chum  
  
on both sides of him and just as eager to hear. Sure, she forgot a lot of the details, and skipped around constantly, but the basic premise of each instance was clear. Nothing changed its species halfway through, and she always remembered the address.  
  
When she'd come to the friendly pelican who hadn't snapped them up instantly, who had, in fact, had the pair of fish in his beak and resisted, the trio of sharks were delighted.  
  
"A success story!" Chum raved. "We could post a before and after photo-"  
  
"How could you tell?" Anchor muttered.  
  
"Think bigger, boys!" Bruce had gleefully chimed in as leader, a vision beginning to form. "Think of the first land-based chapter of the F.E.A.! Pelicans all over Sydney, learning how to-"  
  
"Uhm, no..." Dory began tapping her lip in thought again, before nodding affirmatively. "No, I think he still eats fish."  
  
Collective gasps. "He *what?*"   
  
"You don't say...you sure?"  
  
"How on earth does he manage that?"  
  
Dory thought again, oblivious as to what the news might mean for the trio.   
  
"Well, he mostly leaves us alone, and he just goes in when he has to eat, I guess. Lioneo was telling me-"  
  
"Nemo," the sharks corrected out of habit.  
  
"Right, that's what I said. So Nemo was telling me how Nigel said something about...well, I don't remember what it was, exactly, but how it's something he has to do."  
  
"But aren't you afraid-"  
  
"Chum," Bruce muttered, "have some tact, will ya?"  
  
"No, I wanna know! Aren't you afraid he'll ever take a snap at *you*?"  
  
And Dory gives it a moment of thought, and that simple word again: "Nope."  
  
"Why not?" the group asks her, because tact's all but lost now.  
  
"Well, I trust him. Same reason I trust you guys. Friends do that, right?"  
  
Sometimes, Dory says or does the perfect thing. Bruce has yet to figure out if she knows it. But her oblivious, goofy smiles sometimes look different...as if she's ready to hold the world's fins, and guide everyone where they need to go.   
  
Bruce notices everything about Dory; he knows so much already, and he's glad there's still more to learn.   
  
Because he knows that if he looks at Dory, and sees her completely, he'll care. He'll care about her, and he'll never want to hurt her.  
  
Twelve steps worth of meetings, and that's the first real step he ever took. Fish are friends, after all. 


End file.
